


Any Way You Want

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, mentions of infertility and abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madge wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant.  And having a baby with Gale Hawthorne certainly wasn’t in the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Fuck._

Madge sat on the edge of the tub in Delly’s bathroom, staring blankly at the small plastic stick in front of her while Delly hammered frantically on the door, shouting to be let in.  This wasn’t possible.  It wasn’t.  There was literally no way she was pregnant.  This was against the laws of nature.   _This is not happening.  It’s impossible_.

 

“I swear to god Madge, open this fucking door before I break it down,” Delly yelled.  “Obviously you’re pregnant or you wouldn’t be hiding in there, so just  _let. me. in._ ”  Madge flipped the lock on the door and Delly burst through.  “So.  You’re knocked up.  What’s next?”  Madge stayed silent, unable to comprehend how much her life had changed in the past half hour. 

She had been out to brunch with Delly, listening to Delly prattle on about her latest conquest, some artist with an “absolutely insane loft, no really Madge, you’ve gotta see her place, it’s like, completely covered in pictures of naked chicks,” fighting down the nausea that seemed to be her constant companion lately, when Delly suddenly stopped talking.  “Madge, what the hell is wrong with you these days?  Did Hawthorne get you pregnant or something?”

Madge felt her eyes bug out slightly.  “What about Gale?”

Delly rolled her eyes.  “Oh please.  You two are not nearly as subtle as you think you are.  ‘Gale and I are going to share a cab home, even though we live in opposite directions.’  ‘Gale’s just here to fix my plumbing.’  He’s seeing to your plumbing, all right, but it ain’t the kind under your sink.  Out with it.  What’s going on?”

“Dell, you know—you know that isn’t possible. Remember?”  Ever since puberty, Madge had been at war with her reproductive system.  Just a few years ago her gyno had informed Madge that her chances of getting pregnant “the old fashioned way” were slim to none, and she should think hard about how far she would be willing to go to have biological kids.  It had been a devastating blow—she’d always imagined having kids  _someday_ , in some hazy future where she had her shit together and she was married to a sweet man who was like, a kindergarten teacher or something equally adorable, and the baby would be a well-behaved boy, maybe with a little sister later on.  Children weren’t her sole reason for living, but she’d always counted on them  _eventually_.  Delly knew all this, as she’d been the one to spend the weekend after she found out in Madge’s apartment, watching shitty romantic comedies and eating ice cream like she’d just been dumped.

Delly shrugged.  “Stranger things have happened.  I’m just saying.  You said you’re falling asleep at work, your tits are huge, and you’ve been nauseous this entire brunch and don’t even try to deny it.”

“It’s not that, I’m positive.  I’ve just been off my birth control for a few months, and I always feel like crap when I switch types.”

“Yeah, when you switch types.  But you’re  _off?_  Completely?”

“My doctor wants to put in an IUD, so I let my prescription run out maybe two months ago.  I was supposed to have it put in right away, but she had an emergency procedure so my appointment got canceled and I just haven’t had time to reschedule.”

“Well, have you had a period since then?”

Madge thought back.  “A little one, maybe six or seven weeks ago?  It was pretty light, but I’m sure my hormones were still adjusting.”  It had been so long since she’d had an unmedicated period—she’d been on birth control since she was fifteen—that she didn’t know what to expect.  It had only lasted two days, with minimal cramping and almost no blood, and she allowed herself to hope that maybe she’d conquered whatever was wrong with her insides.  But she hadn’t had one since, something she had chalked up to her perpetually messed up hormones.

“Okay.  But when you and Hawthorne bone, you guys use a condom, right?”

“For a lesbian you’re really fucking nosy about heterosexual sex, you know,” Madge snapped, but Delly was unnervingly close to the truth.  They used a condom the first few times, but once it had become a semi-regular occurrence she told him she was on the pill and probably unable to conceive anyway and he showed her a clear STD screening and she showed him hers, and they sort of hadn’t bothered.  It was irresponsible, she knew, but she trusted him and since they weren’t with anyone else and she couldn’t get pregnant, what was the point of a condom anyway?

Delly seemed to guess what Madge’s non-denial meant.  “Shit, Madge.  Did you tell him you were off the pill?”

Madge nodded.  They’d discussed it briefly, but as they were both a little bit tipsy and a lot impatient for each other, they decided it didn’t matter.  But it was impossible.  She was just tired because work was busy, and she constantly felt like she was on the verge of throwing up because her body was still getting used to being off birth control.  But now that she thought about it—shouldn’t her body have adjusted?  It had been two months…actually, just over two months since she stopped taking it.  That was a long time for the side effects to be lingering.

Delly looked at her and pulled out her credit card.  “We’re leaving and getting you a pregnancy test, chica.  No arguments.”  So Delly had paid and they left the restaurant, Madge heading back to Delly’s apartment to hide and Delly heading to the nearby Walgreens for a pregnancy test. “You know, half the draw of lesbianism is that I  _wouldn’t_  have to buy one of these things,” she grumbled upon her return, pushing the cardboard box into Madge’s chest. “Go.  Pee.”

And that was how Madge came to be sitting in Delly’s bathroom, staring in disbelief at the little pink plus sign.  Delly sat next to her with an arm draped over Madge’s shoulders.  “I’m sorry, honey.  What do you want to do?  Want me to make an appointment for you at Planned Parenthood?  I can take some time off work and take you, if you want.  It is Hawthorne’s, right?”

It was.  It had to be Gale’s.  She hadn’t been with anyone else in…a year?  Had it really been that long?  The first time, they had both written it off as a one-time thing, brought on by too much alcohol.  It hadn’t happened for a few more weeks, but then it did, and then it did again, and then it had become a habit.  It worked for both of them—they were both working insane hours, and they had excellent chemistry and the sex was, well, really fucking great, so…why not?  It was easier than dating, since they were already sort-of friends, and there was no awkwardness between them afterwards.  No, this baby was definitely Gale’s.

How was she going to tell him?   _Was_  she going to tell him?  He’d support her no matter what, that she knew.  But if she kept it—what then?  She couldn’t do that to Gale.  He was the sort of guy that was _made_  to be a dad, true, but not in Peeta’s “oh my god look at that baby please let me hold that baby isn’t this baby a cute baby Katniss can we please have a baby” way.  More in the “I’ll make sure my daughter can change a tire” sort of way.  But he deserved the chance to decide he was ready.  He’d already been basically a dad to Posy when he was only a teenager; she couldn’t force fatherhood on him again.  He’d earned the right to be free of responsibilities for awhile.

Delly tried again.  “How far along are you?”  Her voice was soft, her earlier brashness gone.

“…two months?  I think two months.  Last time I was with Gale was about two months ago, and I hadn’t seen him for maybe a month or so before that, so…probably two months, give or take.”

“Well, before you make any decisions, we should probably get this confirmed by a doctor.  You want to go to yours, or should I call the clinic?”

“Mine.  I’ll call.  You don’t have to do anything, Dell.”

“Nonsense.  I’m coming with you, and no arguments.”

And that was how Madge found herself in a darkened room four days later, a sheet across her lap and a dildocam up her crotch.  She’d had dozens of internal ultrasounds before and they never got less unpleasant.  But at least this time Delly sat next to her, holding her hand.  The tech had the screen angled so they couldn’t see anything, and when she left Madge’s doctor returned.

“Well, Madge, the ultrasound and blood work both say the same thing.  It looks like your reproductive system doesn’t take no for an answer. You’re pregnant.  About eight weeks along, it seems, and so far everything looks normal.  I’m guessing this wasn’t planned?”

Madge shook her head.  The past few days had been a blur—Gale had texted to see if she wanted to come over that weekend, but she hadn’t responded.  She couldn’t.  God, what was she going to tell him?

“Do you want to continue the pregnancy?  If you want an abortion, we’ve only got a few weeks before things get a whole lot trickier.  I don’t want to pressure you, but you should probably make a decision soon.”

“Is this—do you think this could happen again?  Have we been wrong?”  Madge dreaded the answer.

Her doctor smiled sadly.  “I can’t say for sure.  This is unexpected, and I’ll be honest, I can’t promise that it will happen again.  This might be your only pregnancy, or it might not.”

Delly grabbed her hand again.  “I think she needs to go home and think for a bit.  Can she call you back in a few days?”  Her doctor nodded, and Delly led her out to her car and back to Madge’s apartment.  She called in sick for the rest of the week and spent the next two days laying on her couch alternating between staring off into space and staring at her belly, at a loss for what to do.

She was  _pregnant_.  With  _Gale’s baby_.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.  It wasn’t  _going_  to happen, and she’d mostly made her peace with that three years ago.  And now she was twenty-eight and pregnant with her fuck buddy’s illegitimate child and she had no idea what she was going to do.  Abortion was an option, but if this was her only chance, could she go through with it?  She could probably afford to have the baby—it would be tight, and she’d have to turn her office-slash-guest room into a nursery, and find a day care that catered to lawyers-with-insane-billable-hours, but her salary was decent.  The only other problem was Gale.

This definitely wasn’t part of the plan they’d worked out.  Granted, originally there wasn’t a plan, just an impulsive decision borne out of frustration and a little too much alcohol.  They—her, Delly, Katniss, and Peeta–had been out celebrating Delly’s recent promotion and Katniss had dragged Gale along even though it wasn’t his usual scene.  The evening started out with just Madge and Delly sitting at their usual bar, waiting on everyone else to show up.  They had both been complaining about their sex lives—or lack thereof, more accurately—and Madge had just loudly announced, “All I want is someone to fuck me and then leave.  Is that really too much to ask?” when Gale tapped her on her shoulder.  She turned bright red, but he’d given no indication he’d heard her, merely asking if Katniss and Peeta were running late.

Several rounds of drinks later, Delly declared she wanted a “challenge” that night.  Which meant going to straight clubs and seeing if she could find a girl to go home with her.  Madge had played wingwoman for Delly often enough, so she joined Delly on the dance floor while Katniss and Peeta guarded the table.  Gale was with Katniss and Peeta at first, making conversation with a tall, leggy brunette who stopped by shortly after he sat down.  Madge assumed they were friends, so she was surprised when he joined her on the dance floor, drawing her close and whispering, “Sorry, but I couldn’t handle talking to her anymore.  Mind if I dance with you for awhile?”  Madge had agreed, finding herself even more surprised that not only was he dancing with them, he seemed to be  _enjoying_  himself.  Up until that night she’d assumed he was grumpy and quiet, but watching him goof around with Delly made her wonder if maybe this was the side of Gale that normally only Katniss got to see.

At the close of the evening, they poured a drunk and belligerent Delly into a cab with Katniss and Peeta.  Delly ranted about “stupid fucking straight girls and their stupid fucking boyfriends,” while Peeta deliberately antagonized her by pointing out that  _she_  was the one who had wanted a  _challenge_  in the first place and Katniss tried to give the cabbie directions first to Delly’s place and then to hers.  The cab took off, leaving Madge and Gale on the sidewalk, alone for the first time all evening.  Madge pulled her jacket around her more tightly, awkwardly nodding down the street and explaining that her apartment was just a few streets away, so she was just going to walk home.  But he had insisted on walking her home, which was how she found herself strolling down a quiet street with Gale by her side.  They’d been laughing at Delly’s antics when Gale’s voice got a little deeper.  “Sorry you didn’t find someone to fuck you tonight.”  Madge stared at him in disbelief—he’d heard her?  Gale flashed her a grin.  “Well, that is what you wanted, right?  Someone to fuck you and then leave?”

Madge desperately tried hide her embarrassment.  “Why, you volunteering?”

Gale glanced away for a second, as if deciding something, and then suddenly he pressed her against the building behind her, kissing her breathless.  He pulled away just slightly.  “Well, princess?  Did I pass the audition?”

“You promise to leave tonight?”  Madge couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth anymore than she could believe the words coming out of his.

“Scout’s honor.”

Madge grabbed his hand and pulled him quickly down the block to her apartment building, anticipation building the whole way.  But once they were inside, the atmosphere changed.  Gale seemed hesitant, which made her uncomfortable.  Was he changing his mind?  Had she misread a joke?  Gale swallowed thickly.  “Ah, um…before we, ah, get started…how drunk are you?”

Madge thought for a moment.  “Too drunk to drive but sober enough to remember the night.  You?”

“About the same.”

And then his lips were back on hers, his tongue brushing first her lower lip and then her own tongue.  She melted into the kiss—maybe it was the martinis or maybe it was him, but she could be kissed like this for hours—and started stumbling backwards towards her bedroom.  He kicked the door shut and dropped his hands to the hem of her dress, tugging it up over her head.  Gale stepped back for a second and she was suddenly self-conscious.  Madge had seen the woman he was talking to earlier, had seen how other women in the club looked at him.  The tall brunette had been a good four inches taller than Madge, and probably weighed less than her too.  And Katniss was always talking about the model-types he dated.  But if he was comparing her to those other women, he gave no hint to it.  Gale simply dipped his head to kiss her again, and again, until his lips were all that mattered.  He unclasped her bra and let it drop, stroking up and down her back lightly.  His hands drifted to her hips as she clumsily unbuttoned his shirt, pressing desperate kisses to his collarbone.

Gale guided her until the backs of her legs hit the bed.  Rather than sitting, however, she climbed onto the bed and rose on her knees, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and reaching down for his belt.  With it unbuckled Gale took over, shoving his pants and boxers off in one swift movement.  Madge saw no reason to delay, so she pulled her panties down as well and crawled to the nightstand to pull out a condom.  She went to hand it to him but he covered her hand in his and moved it back toward the nightstand.  “Hold up, princess,” he said, speaking for the first time since they’d entered the bedroom, “I intend to earn my keep.”

Madge lay back, puzzled, until she saw him settling on his belly between her legs.   _Oh_ , she thought, and then  _oh_  again when his tongue slid over her center.  He stayed there, lapping at her opening and watching her with hooded eyes until she shook with her release, her thighs trembling and her back arching off the bed.  He crawled up her body and she reached for him, intending to return the favor, but he lightly pushed her hand away and reached for the condom.  “No,” he said hoarsely, “not now.  Right now, I need to fuck you,” and then suddenly he was inside of her, filling her and stretching her.  Her hips rose to meet his every thrust, reveling in the feel of him pushing deeper and deeper until he fell apart as well, groaning loudly above her.

Gale rolled off of her, breathing hard.  She couldn’t help herself and broke into giggles.  “It’s official.  You’re hired.”

He shot her a grin.  “Well, in that case…I should get going,” and he rolled out of bed and grabbed for his clothes, disposing of the condom in the trash.

“You don’t have to, you know.  I was joking about the leaving afterward part.  Well, mostly. ”  Madge pushed herself up, propping herself up on one arm and pulling the covers over her exposed breasts.

He shrugged.  “No, it’s fine—I should get going, actually.  But this was fun.  We should do it again sometime.”  And then he winked, kissed her swiftly, and was gone.

Madge hadn’t seen Gale for almost a month after that, until Katniss’ birthday.  They went bowling, of all things, at a shitty little bowling alley near Katniss’ apartment.  When they broke into teams Madge and Gale ended up on opposing sides, but she couldn’t help but notice the way he was watching her.  At one point, sick of the endless stream of country music the guy behind the counter was playing, Madge had fluffed her hair and pulled her v-neck down slightly, setting off to flirt her way at least into some Motown.  She’d felt Gale’s eyes on her the entire time, burning into her.

She liked it, she decided.  She liked it a lot.  So Madge started returning the looks and finding excuses to brush up against him.  She felt excited and jittery, like she was about to go out of her skin.  She excused herself to go to the bathroom—down a dingy, dark hallway—and when she left the bathroom she found Gale waiting for her.  She had barely had time to register his presence before he was pushing her into the wall, kissing her roughly.  “Share a cab home with me,” he whispered in her ear, half request and half command. She nodded and Gale stepped back.  “You’re gonna need to fix your lipstick before you go back out there,” he observed and then ducked into the men’s room, presumably to do something about the lipstick that was now all over his lips as well.

So they shared a cab home that night, despite several askance looks from everyone else, who knew they lived nowhere near each other.  Madge didn’t care though.  Not that night.  They had hardly made it inside his apartment when she pushed him back against the door and dropped to her knees in front of him.  Wordlessly, he pulled his shirt off as she unzipped his jeans, pushing them down to his ankles.  He was wearing black boxer briefs and a surge of arousal went through her as she saw how hard he was already. She tucked her fingers into the waistband and pulled down, releasing his erection.  Madge looked up then, locking eyes with him as she wrapped one hand around his cock and licked it slowly, from base to tip.  Gale moaned and tangled a hand in her hair, dropping his head back against the door with a soft  _thump_  as she took him entirely in her mouth.  His hips stayed perfectly still as she set a rhythm with her hand and mouth, twisting her hand slightly and licking the tip every so often.  She lightly scraped his thigh with the nails of her other hand and he moaned louder.  She could feel him getting harder and harder in her mouth, and the way he kept whispering her name was making her wet.  “Madge, Madge…I’m going to… I’m…” he groaned but she didn’t stop.  She’d been thinking about this all evening, and if she was honest with herself, since that first night with him.  She just hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder, moaning along with him as he spurted down the back of her throat.

Gale sank to the floor, his back against the door and his pants still tangled around his ankles.  “Fuck, Madge.  What was that?”

She sat next to him and shrugged.  “I wanted to.”

“Yeah, but now,” he gave an embarrassed gesture downward, “it’s going to be awhile.”

Now it was her turn to flash him a grin.  “Guess we’ll just have to occupy ourselves until you’ve recovered.”   She leaned over and kissed him, and kept kissing him as his hand trailed down her chest, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding his hand inside, and he cursed softly as he felt her arousal seeping through her underwear.  He kicked off his shoes, jeans, and boxers then and stood, walking soundlessly toward his bedroom.  There he’d stripped her and made her come with only his fingers and tongue so many times she passed out before he was ready for another round.  But the next morning she’d woken him with a long kiss and he barely had time to grab a condom before she sank down on him and rode him with abandon, his hands grasping her breasts and her clit hitting his pubic bone at just the right angle.

It had been shortly after  _that_ , over a breakfast of cereal and coffee at Gale’s table, that they’d laid down their conditions.  Clearly, they didn’t want to stop. And with both of them working 60+ hour weeks, dating—either each other, or someone else—seemed like an unnecessary time commitment.  So they agreed: they would always be upfront with each other; if one of them started dating someone else they would stop with no hard feelings; and no one else could know.  Madge ticked them off one by one on her fingers.  “Anything else?”

Gale looked down, tracing the grain of the wood with his finger.  “This one might sound weird, but I think spending the night with each other is fine, especially if we’re drunk or tired.  But,” he swallowed thickly, “I think we should say no cuddling.  If this is just going to be sex, we should keep it that way.  Friends and sex, nothing else.”

“Deal.”

And that had been that.  Or the start of it, really.  They exchanged numbers, and from then on, whenever one of them was bored (or frustrated), one of them would show up at the other’s apartment.  Eventually she told him about her (supposed) infertility, and after they exchanged clear STD panels they’d dispensed with condoms.  The time Delly had been referring to—the time Gale had claimed to be helping her with her plumbing, she had called him on a Saturday morning to see if he wanted to spend the day with her.  He’d just arrived when Delly buzzed from downstairs, and Madge had panicked.  They weren’t good enough friends to explain his presence away, so Gale had ducked under the sink just as Delly burst through the door and explained to her that he’d stopped by to help with Madge’s sink.  At the time, they thought they’d gotten away with it, giggling after Delly left until he kissed Madge and they wound up fucking on her kitchen table.  But apparently, Delly had known all along.  And now Madge was pregnant, and while it wasn’t specifically against the rules she was pretty sure it went against the whole spirit of no-strings-attached sex.

By Friday evening she couldn’t put it off any longer so she grabbed her phone and typed a quick text to Gale asking if she could stop by.  She knew what he would be assuming, but it couldn’t be helped.  This was definitely not a text conversation.  Or a phone conversation.  And saying “we need to talk” would just make him on edge before she got there.  She was going to have to bite the bullet and tell him in person.  Madge threw on some semi-presentable clothes and headed out to catch the train to his apartment.

Gale swung the door open before she even had a chance to knock, pulling her into his arms and kissing her hard.   _Crap_.   _This is going to be harder than I thought._   She put her hands on his chest and pushed back.  “Gale, wait.  I need to talk to you.”

He seemed to take in her haggard appearance for the first time. “Christ, Madge, I’m sorry.  Are you okay?  You’re looking a little rough.  Can I get you anything?”

“Water.  Water would be nice.”  Madge wasn’t really thirsty, but she needed to collect herself after that kiss.  She walked into his living room and curled up on the armchair—the more distance between them, the better.  If he started kissing her again she might lose her courage, and it was now or never.

Gale returned with the water.  He handed it to her with a wary glance and took a seat on the couch across from her.  “Madge, if this is about you meeting someone else, it’s okay,” he began softly, his eyes trained on his knees.  “We talked about this; if one of us meets someone else, we end things.  No hard feelings.  I’ll keep up my end of the bargain, I promise.”

God, he was making this so difficult.  When did he get so  _sweet?_   Half the reason she started sleeping with him was that Gale was kind of a dick, so she figured if things went south she could bail without worrying about his feelings.  And now he was being so considerate she wanted to cry.

“No, Gale.  It isn’t that.  I haven’t met anyone else.  It’s…” she took a giant gulp of water to buy herself some more time but choked as it went down the wrong pipe.  Her coughing eventually subsided and with watery eyes she continued.  “Gale, I’m pregnant.  And it’s yours.”  She turned her head to look out the window then, unable to bring herself to look him in the eye.

She saw his head snap up out of the corner of her eye.  “Pregnant?  How?  You said you  _couldn’t_  get pregnant.”

She couldn’t read his tone of voice.  Was he angry with her?  Or just surprised?  “I thought so too.  And so did my doctor.  Gale, I’m so sorry, I never meant for this to happen, I promise, I didn’t know.”  She shifted her gaze to her fingernails, still not ready to see his face.  “And it’s yours, for sure.  There hasn’t been anyone else, I swear.”

Gale stayed silent for so long she couldn’t take it anymore.  She lifted her eyes to his, only to find him staring blankly at her.  “How—how far along are you?”

“Eight or nine weeks.”

“Okay.  And have you decided…are you keeping it?  It’s your decision, and I’ll support you.  If you want an abortion I’ll go with you to the clinic, if that’s what you what.  Madge, I’ll do whatever you want.”  His voice was desperate, tripping over his words.  It was so unlike the usual cool, collected, (and to be perfectly honest, arrogant) Gale.

“I don’t know yet.  I don’t want to put this on you, though.  You didn’t ask for this.”

“True, but neither did you.  What do  _you_  want to do?”  He looked straight at her, and suddenly she knew what she was going to do.  Her answer came tumbling out.

“I think I’m going to keep it.  Oh god, I think I’m going to fucking keep it.  I might not be able to have another, so I think I’m going to go through with it.  Oh god, what the fuck am I doing?  Gale, you won’t have to do anything, I swear.  I make enough money, and I know Delly will help, and Peeta, and I swear, this won’t be your responsibility.  This is my stupid fucking choice and you don’t have to be involved if you don’t want.”  She started crying then, like she had been doing for the past week.  Part of it was hormones, but part of it was the monumental decision she’d just made.  She was going to have a baby.  With Gale.


	2. Chapter 2

_Nine Weeks_

Madge spent that night at Gale’s, talking.  He was scared, she knew—terrified, actually—but he had rallied as best he could.  He swore she wouldn’t go through this alone, and that he would support her however she wanted.  Madge was grateful, but the guilt of putting him through this, when he’d already had to grow up so fast when his dad died, ate away at her the entire time.  Gale wasn’t the sort to shirk his responsibilities, no matter how he felt.  What if he was just saying this because it’s what he thought he was  _supposed_  to say?  What if he resented her for her decision; what if he eventually resented their _child?_   Was she making a huge mistake?

 

Gale assured her over and over again that he wasn’t doing this against his will.  He even wanted to call his mother right then and there, but Madge begged off—it was still early and something could still go wrong.  She eventually fell asleep on the couch, worn out by the hormones and all the talking, and vaguely felt Gale lift her up and carry her to bed.

The next morning, however, Madge woke up by herself in Gale’s bed.  The apartment was silent and she idly wondered where he went.  She shuffled to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer where she knew she would find boxers, an undershirt, and an old sweatshirt.  All three were too big on her, but she’d slept in her clothes and she didn’t want to stay in them any longer.  Besides, she’d worn these around his apartment before.  Her clothes changed, his kitchen stretched out before her, all dark tiles and gleaming stainless steel.  He had a ridiculously nice kitchen—very different from her tiny galley kitchen.  But then again he liked to cook and she didn’t, so while his apartment had tiny closets and a big kitchen, hers had giant closets and barely any kitchen at all.

She opened a cupboard and sighed.  Of course his cereal bowls would be stored a foot over her head.  And Madge wasn’t even  _short_.  He was just a giant.  So she climbed onto the counter and was just reaching for a bowl when the door opened and Gale  _freaked out_.

“Madge!  What are you doing?  Get down!  Why didn’t you wait for me?”  He threw his bags down and ran towards her, lifting her off the counter.

“I didn’t  _wait_  because I didn’t know where you were, or when you’d be back.  And I climbed up there because not all of us are 6’4 and I couldn’t reach.  Calm down, Gale, really.  I’m fine, and so is the baby.”  She was annoyed.  He’d known she was pregnant for barely twelve hours and already he was bossing her around.

Gale took a deep breath.  “Sorry, I just—this is a lot to take in, and I panicked.  Here.”  He thrust a plastic bag at her.  Inside, Madge found prenatal vitamins.  “I figured since you didn’t know until this week, and you weren’t sure if you were going through with it, you probably didn’t have any.  But now that you are, you should have these.”  He paused, taking in her reaction.  “Unless…have you changed your mind?”  She shook her head, tears welling behind her eyes.  Apparently, being pregnant was turning her into a weepy mess, because now she was crying about  _vitamins_.  But Gale just pulled her close and rested his chin on the top of her head, making soft shush-ing noises as she cried.  “It’s okay, princess.  I promise.  We’ll get through this.”  At his nickname for her—usually said sarcastically as they tore off each other’s clothes–she started crying harder.  It was her fault they were in this mess, but he was the one actually handling it well.

Gale cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears.  “Let’s eat breakfast, okay?”  Madge agreed.  She felt okay in the mornings—it was around lunch time that she felt her worst.  Gale produced a box of donuts (they were in the other plastic bag) and started to make a pot of coffee.   “Wait, can you…?”  Madge shook her head sadly. 

“I don’t think so.  It might kill me, but I’m pretty sure caffeine is out.”  So Madge contented herself with a few chocolate-frosted donuts and a glass of milk while Gale sipped his coffee.  After breakfast she found herself exhausted again, so she stretched out on the couch while he opened his laptop.  She woke up at noon to throw up the donuts, brushing her teeth with the toothbrush she’d stashed there months ago.  Back in the living room she found Gale had moved to the couch, his laptop on the low coffee table.  He opened his arms and she nestled against his chest.  This was against the rules, but the rules hadn’t really been meant to handle pregnancy.  So she relaxed into him, grateful for the human contact.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his lips pressed against her temple.  Also against the rules, but it felt too nice for her to stop him.

“Like crap.”  She chuckled drily.  “I’ve never felt so terrible in my life.”

Gale motioned to his laptop.  “I’ve been doing some research—what you can eat, what you should avoid, that sort of thing.  You up to looking at it?”  She nodded, and they spent the next hour curled into one another, figuring things out (except for when she had to leave to go dry heave over his toilet, which happened twice.)  She fell asleep again in the middle of the afternoon, waking up to find he’d draped a blanket over her as she slept.  He was cooking something that smelled  _delicious_ , which was a surprise since her sense of smell had been going haywire for weeks.

As they were eating dinner, something occurred to her.  She left the table and rummaged through her purse, pulling out the ultrasound her doctor had given her.  She laid it on the table in front of Gale and he stared at it silently.

Finally, he spoke.  “It’s hard to believe that this is our  _kid_.  And we should probably come up with something to call it, so we can stop saying ‘it,’ at least until we know if it’s a boy or girl.”  They had decided earlier they wanted to know the sex as soon as possible.  The pregnancy itself was surprise enough.  “I dunno, it kind of looks like a bean.  Should we call it Bean?”

Madge laughed.  “Yeah, us and every other pregnant couple that’s ever seen an ultrasound.”

“Fine.  Bean is out.  How about Berry?  Like strawberry, or raspberry.  I know how much you love strawberries.”

Wait, he did?  How did he know that?  She pushed that thought aside.  “Berry is cute, but people are going to think we mean Barry, like the guys name.  Like Barry White.”

Gale snorted, putting his soda down (he was drinking a soda instead of beer so she wouldn’t be too jealous.  It was really nice of him).  “Barry White.  I like it.”

Madge couldn’t stop giggling.  “Are we really going to call our fetus Barry White?”

“At this point, Undersee, I think we have to.”

They cackled for awhile, entirely too amused by themselves.  Madge settled first.  “So, um, what about a last name?”

“Well, we’re not married, so I’d say that’s entirely your call.  I’m fine with either.”

Damn, she’d been hoping he would have an opinion.  What do you name the illegitimate baby you’re having with your fuck buddy?  Somehow, she didn’t think that would be tackled in  _What to Expect When You’re Expecting._ “I honestly don’t know.  Let’s table that for awhile.”

She ended up staying the night again.  Madge didn’t mean to–she fully intended to leave after dinner–but once again she was hit with a wave of exhaustion and Gale insisted that she stay one more night.  And since she’d felt far less panicked and alone since she arrived, she agreed.

Later that night as she laid on her side in his bed, she surveyed the apartment.  High ceilings, exposed brick, hardwood floors—it was a beautiful place.   _The rent must be astronomical,_  she thought,  _it would be terrible if he had to move because I was an idiot._   Once again the enormity of her decision washed over her and she started weeping as quietly as she could.

It was no use though—Gale heard.  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispered.

“Everything,” she sobbed, “you have this really nice place, and because I went and got pregnant you’re going to have to  _move_.”

To her surprise, Gale laughed.  “Why would I have to move?  I own this place.”  She sat up, startled out of crying.   _He owned it?  How?_   He read the question on her face.  “I bought it when the market crashed and got a really good deal.  But even if I rented, why on earth would I have to move?  Do you want me to move in with you?”

“No—no, I don’t want you to move in.” She sniffled and wiped at her cheeks.  “It’s just that babies are so expensive, and what if you couldn’t afford this apartment because I decided to have a baby?  I’d feel terrible.”

“For the hundredth time— _this isn’t just your mess_.  It wasn’t exactly an immaculate conception, okay?  I was there too.  I made a decision.  And I’m in this with you, and if that means I have to sell my place to afford the baby, then I guess I’ll sell my place.  But I don’t think it will come to that.  You make good money and so do I, and Posy’s going to a state school on scholarship, so I don’t have to worry about her anymore.  Worst case scenario is I send my ma a little less money each month, and she hates that I do that anyway.  We’re going to be fine, I promise.”  He pulled her back down to the bed, the curve of her back pressed against his chest.  They were breaking pretty much every rule they’d ever made, but she still snuggled deeper.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, just as she drifted off to sleep.

Gale was still in bed beside her when she woke up on Sunday morning, opening her eyes to find his grey ones looking straight back at her.  Had he been watching her sleep?  That didn’t seem like Gale.  “Hi,” she whispered shyly, a little unnerved.  She’d spent two nights and an entire day in his apartment, and they hadn’t had sex once.  That…that never happened with them.  They weren’t dating; they were fucking.  She’d spent the night before, of course, but usually because it was too late and she was too tired or drunk to go home.  She’d never stayed over just to sleep, and here she’d done it twice.

Gale smiled at her, his eyes soft.  “Hi,” he whispered back, tucking her hair behind her ear.  “You feeling up to breakfast?”

Madge bolted upright, definitely unsettled now.  “Gale, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stayed.  We don’t have to pretend we’re dating just because I’m having a baby.”  _Your baby_ , her mind hissed, but she pushed that thought away and continued. “We had an arrangement and it was working just fine.  There’s no reason to change it.  I’ll keep you posted on appointments, and the baby, and everything.”  She got out of bed and started throwing on her clothes, suddenly desperate to leave.  “And we’ve got a few months to figure out custody, but I trust you and I know we can work something out.  We should probably get something in writing, but I can find someone to draw those papers up for us.  I’ll schedule another appointment with my doctor in a month, so let me know what days work for you because you might need to take a few hours off work. If you even want to come, that is.  You don’t have to, though, Delly will come if I need someone.”

Gale stayed silent throughout her rambling tirade, watching her impassively.  “No, I’ll come to your appointments.  Let me look at my calendar on Monday and let you know.”  He followed her to his door (still in his boxers, oh god, what had she been  _thinking_ ) and gave her a quick hug.  “We’re in this together, Undersee.  Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t!” she practically squawked as she left his apartment and darted for the elevator.  She texted Delly on her ride home to let her know that she’d told Gale and made her decision, but left it a little vague, as if she’d only been there last night.  Madge wasn’t sure why she was hiding that information from Delly—since apparently, her arrangement with Gale was an open secret—but she didn’t want anyone to know.  Somehow, this past weekend had been more intimate than all the times they’d fucked.

 

The next month at work was probably the worst of her life.  She was exhausted and having a hard time concentrating, but she wasn’t ready to tell anyone she was pregnant.  So instead it just looked like she’d suddenly gotten terrible at her job.  When she could eat lunch she ate in her office with the door closed, because the break room was far too full of smells that made her stomach turn.  She dreaded having that conversation with HR, because no matter what the firm’s official policy said, she knew the second she announced she was pregnant she would be mommy-tracked and handed dead-end clients and deals, and everyone would start whispering that she probably wouldn’t return to work, or if she did, she wouldn’t last long.  Madge had seen it happen to other women, and while she still didn’t know how she’d handle raising a child and keeping her billable hours up, she had faith that with Gale’s help, they would make it work.  She also started wearing dresses every day, since her pants were getting uncomfortably tight.  She wasn’t really showing, but she felt incredibly bloated and dresses were the only clothes that didn’t leave painful marks all along her waistline.

Madge ducked out of work early on a Thursday and headed to her doctor’s office.  Gale was already in the parking lot and they walked in together—side by side, but studiously not holding hands, or touching in any way.  The distance she’d put between them a month ago still existed.  They were together, but not.  They texted several times a week, mostly Gale checking in to see how she was feeling.  They had also met for lunch the week before and decided that if all went well at this check up they would begin the terrifying process of telling their family and friends that they were now a PSA for always wearing a condom. 

The appointment went quickly.  Everything was progressing on track, so they scheduled the 20 week ultrasound and headed out.  And then they were back in the parking lot, staring awkwardly at each other in front of Gale’s car. He broke the silence.  “Do you want to grab a bite to eat?  I’m starving.”

“Um, sure.  I guess.  I think there’s a pizza place not too far from here.”

“Great.  I’ll follow you in my car.”

Madge stayed quiet for a moment.  “Um…I don’t have a car.  I thought you knew that.”

Gale looked surprised.  “How did you get here then?  Why didn’t you say something?  I would have picked you up.”

“I took the train, just like I normally do.  And Gale, please, I need to feel like I can do this on my own, okay?  I don’t need rides anywhere.  I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

Gale looked like he was biting back a retort.  “Fine, sorry.  But can I at least drive you to the restaurant?”  Madge smiled and hopped into his car, directing him the short few blocks to a pizza place she’d discovered on one of her many trips to see her doctor in the past five years.

Once they were seated and had ordered, Madge decided they needed to hash things out, once and for all.  “I’m sorry if I was abrupt with you before.  I just—I think we need to set up some boundaries.  I really appreciate you offering so much, but if we’re going to do this together I think we’re going to need some ground rules.”  Gale nodded for her to continue.  “First, I can get to appointments—and anywhere else I need to be—on my own.  I’ve survived in this city long enough without a car, I don’t need a chauffeur.”

“Okay, but only if you promise that if you  _do_  need a ride, you’ll call.”

“Deal.  Second, we run all baby-related purchases past one another, especially anything major.  I’ll get to work cleaning out my office and turning it into a nursery, and then we can go pick out a crib and things like that together.”

“Sounds good.  And I’ll handle buying a car seat, since apparently I’m the only one with a car.”

Madge breathed a silent sigh of relief.  This was what she wanted—this partnership.  She trusted Gale, and she hated those moments of awkwardness like the Sunday she’d run out of his apartment, or just earlier when she snapped at him in the parking lot.   _Get it together, Undersee,_  she chided herself.   _You can do this._   She deliberately changed the subject, not ready to talk about what was actually on her mind.  “Any idea how your mom is going to handle the news?  My dad will be pretty easy, I think.  He’ll be disappointed, but he’s kind of a pushover as far as I’m concerned.”

“Ma…she’ll be mad, but just at me for being an idiot.  I must have gotten the ‘wear a condom’ speech fifty times in high school.  I know she’ll like you, and she’ll come around pretty quick.  Besides, if she really freaks out I’ll just point out that I was born six months after she and Dad got married.”

“Wait, really?” Madge giggled.

“Yup.  I’ve never mentioned it to her, but I figured it out a long time ago.  It’s my trump card.  But like I said, she’ll get over it.  I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Okay, parents are covered.  Who do we tell next?  Delly already knows, obviously.”

“If it’s all right with you, I think I want to tell my siblings before we tell any friends.”

Right.  His siblings.  As an only child, that had never crossed her mind, but now that he said it, it was obvious.  “Did you want to tell them at the same time as your mom?”

“Nah, I think we need to break the news to Ma first.  But my siblings right after that.”

“All right: parents, then siblings, then…Peeta and Katniss?”  They were the next logical step, since they were the reason Madge and Gale even knew each other.

“Sounds like a plan, Undersee.”  Oh, right, the last name issue.  What last name should they use?  Hers?  His?  A combination?  But Underthorne sounded painful, so no, that was out.  She was saved by the pizza arriving and they tore in.  Madge had finally started feeling slightly better in the past few days, although her doctor said morning sickness could linger for a few more weeks.

Halfway through dinner, she worked up the courage to say what she needed to say.  “Gale, about…about us.  I don’t think we should…” she stopped and tried again.  “I think we should just be friends.  Only friends.  Being whatever we were before, I think that will be too confusing.  For us, and eventually for the baby.  I need us to just be friends.  Is that okay?”

Gale watched her expressionlessly for a moment.  “Yeah, I understand.  Friends, nothing more.”

Relieved, she turned back to her pizza.  Madge paid in return for Gale driving her home, and they decided that they would meet Madge’s dad for dinner on Friday night, have Hazelle over for dinner at Gale’s place on Saturday, and then meet all his siblings for brunch on Sunday.  Katniss and Peeta would have to wait until a happy hour during the week.  It was going to be an emotionally taxing few days.

***

Madge paced the entryway of the fancy French restaurant she’d chosen.  Gale was  _late_.  Gale was _never_  late, and now on the one night she  _could not handle him being late_  he was late.  Her father stood uncomfortably to one side, urging her to calm down.  “Madgie, it’s fine.  They aren’t giving away our table.  We can just go sit down and wait for him there.”

But she didn’t want to just go sit down.  She’d had this all planned out—she and Gale were supposed to be waiting,  _together,_  when her father arrived.  And then she would introduce him to her dad, and then they would all sit down together and order, and  _then_  she would tell her dad.  Gale being late was throwing the entire plan off kilter.

Finally, Gale rushed through the doors, thoroughly out of breath and wearing a  _suit_.  She had hardly registered that fact when he stuck his hand out.  “Mr. Undersee, I’m really sorry to have kept you waiting.  I’m Gale.  Gale Hawthorne.”

“Well, Gale-Gale Hawthorne,” her father began as Madge groaned at his joke, “I’m Roger Undersee.  It’s nice to meet you, but you can just call me Roger.”

Introductions completed, they turned to the sniffy young woman behind the hostess stand and she led them to their seats, Roger leading the way.  Gale kept his hand lightly on the small of her back, and when she raised an eyebrow at him he apologetically mouthed “traffic, sorry” back to her.  He looked nervous.  Really nervous.  And  _good_.  She’d forgotten how good he looked in a suit.  The handsomeness was hard to look at, like looking into the sun.

They sat and ordered, and then it was time.  She knew it was time, and Gale knew it was time, but they were both too anxious to start.  Gale was jiggling his leg under the table, setting the water glasses dancing and clinking the silverware.  She gently put a hand on his knee, stilling him, and cleared her throat. This one was on her.  “Um, Daddy?  We’ve, um, we’ve got some news.  And please don’t be mad, Daddy, but, um…I’m pregnant.”  She stumbled over her words, but she got them out.  Gale reached under the table, grabbed her hand on his knee and squeezed it tightly.

Her father stared at them, first at Madge, then at Gale, back and forth, back and forth.  “Daddy, please.  Say something.”

“Madgie, I don’t know what to say—I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

Gale jumped in before she could answer.  “No, Mr. Undersee—“

“Roger,” her father interrupted.

“Sorry, Roger, but no, we’re not—we’re just friends.  But I care about your daughter, and I promise I will do everything I can to provide for your grandchild.”  Gale’s hand was getting clammy, and his voice shook just slightly.  Gale, who could charm the pants off a nun (and had, in fact, charmed the pants off her, which was why they were in this whole mess in the first place), was worried about what her father’s opinion.  Her heart gave a funny little twist, and she stepped in to save him.

“Daddy, we’re friends who made a mistake, but it’s okay.  We’re going to stay friends, and we’ll do this together.”

Roger stayed quiet, once again staring back and forth between them.  Eventually, he nodded.  “Well, I can’t say I’m pleased with how this came about, but if you’re sure, you’re sure.”  His voice was stern and she knew he was disappointed—she was all he had, and he’d had a hard enough time accepting that she was a grown up in the first place.  This was probably a bit much for him to process.  He sighed.  “When are you due?”

“February,” replied Gale.  “February 10th.”

Roger nodded again and turned to his roll.  “Madgie, would you pass the butter?”  And the rest of the meal passed without incident, but also without any more discussion of the baby. 

***

“Ma’s got a key, so she’ll probably just walk right in.  Be prepared,” Gale warned from the kitchen.  Madge was setting the table and fussing with her scarf.  Her tits were huge now—and they’d been pretty sizable before—and suddenly most of her dresses had gone from “a bit of cleavage” to “hello, here are my breasts.  All of them.”  So she’d thrown a scarf on, hoping to not offend Hazelle.  And again, no baby book had a chapter on “what to wear when meeting your illegitimate baby’s grandmother for the first time” so she was on her own.

Just as Gale predicted, she heard a key in the lock and Hazelle walked in, carrying a bottle of wine.  “Honey, it smells wonderful!” she called to Gale, who was preoccupied plating the roast chicken and vegetables.  “And you must be Madge.  It’s lovely to meet you, dear—I’ve heard so much about you.”

 _Wait, what?  She’d heard of her? What exactly had Gale told his mother about their relationship?_   Hazelle must just be being polite.  Madge smiled and took the wine bottle from her hands.  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

Hazelle laughed.  “Please, just Hazelle.”  She followed Madge into the kitchen and kissed Gale on the cheek while Madge opened the wine.  Hazelle was tall—probably half a foot taller than Madge, who again, wasn’t  _short_.  Madge had not considered the fact that she might be giving birth to a future starting forward for the Knicks, but now it seemed all too possible.

Hazelle helped Gale carry the plates to the table as Madge poured the wine.  Once they were seated, Hazelle turned to Madge.  “There’s no point in beating around the bush here.  I expect I’m here because my idiot son knocked you up.”

Madge stared at her for a second and then caught the gleam in her eye.  Madge cracked up, and Hazelle joined in.  Gale was baffled.

“Ma, how—how?”

Hazelle wiped her eyes, struggling for breath.  “Honey, please.  I gave birth to you.  You invite me to dinner at your apartment, which you  _never_  do, so I can meet a woman you’ve only ever called your _friend,_ and you’re both shaking like rabbits, and she only poured two glasses of wine.  Either she’s pregnant or you need my help hiding a body, and if that was the case I’m betting she’d be drinking too.” 

Slowly, Gale cracked a smile.  “So… you’re not mad?”

“At her? No.  At you for putting her in this situation?  Yes.  Most definitely.”  She leaned over and tapped him lightly on the back of the head.  But Hazelle accompanied this with a grin—a grin Madge recognized all too well—and she felt the tension drain out of her.

Hazelle was all business through dinner, quizzing them on the baby.  Due date?  Where will the little one live?  Have they arranged day care already, or would they like her to cover it?  Doctor or midwife?  Have they chosen a crib?  What about a color scheme for the nursery?  It was overall quite exhausting, but the knowledge that Hazelle was not only happy for them but excited was an enormous relief.  When Hazelle was ready to go, she pulled Madge into a tight hug.  “I’m sure this isn’t what you planned, but sometimes, mistakes turn out to be something wonderful,” she whispered, punctuating the last bit with a glance at Gale.  “And when you meet his siblings tomorrow, don’t let Rory and Vick walk all over you.  They’re good boys, but they can be a little…overenthusiastic sometimes.”  And with that, Hazelle swept out of the apartment.

Madge kicked off her shoes and stumbled to the couch, flopping down with absolutely no dignity whatsoever.  “Your mother is a force of nature.  Anyone ever tell you that?”

Gale scooped up her legs and sat down, resting her feet in his lap.  “Yup.  All the time.  She’s something, that’s for sure.  But I told you she’d love you.”

He had, but what he hadn’t told her was how much Madge would love her.  Hazelle’s warm embrace of Madge—who’s own mother was just a distant memory—was more than Madge could have hoped for.  Gale started rubbing her feet, pressing his thumb into the ball of her foot and then the arch.  She moaned.  “Is that a good moan or a bad moan?” he asked.

Madge pursed her lips.  “Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure you of all people should be able to distinguish between the two by now.”  Gale flashed her a devilish grin and continued his ministrations.

“Hey, um…I was thinking.”

Madge opened one eye.  “Yes?”

“The place where we’re meeting my siblings is just around the corner, and I know you’ve been exhausted lately so…”

“…so?”

“So just stay here tonight.  I know, it’s probably against the rules, but it’s stupid for you to trek all the way back to your place just to make the same trip tomorrow morning.  You’ve stayed here before, anyway.”

“And what will I wear to meet your siblings?  Your sweats?”

“What’s wrong with the dress you have on?”

She thought for a moment.  He did have a point, and she  _was_  exhausted.  She probably could make the trip, but not doing that sounded better.  “All right.  You win.  I’ll stay.”

Gale stood and offered her his hand.  “C’mon princess.  Let’s get you to bed.”

Madge twisted and turned three hours later, still wide awake.  Gale was sleeping soundly beside her, and she secretly found his uncanny ability to fall asleep within minutes in any situation to be rather annoying.  Inexplicably, she found herself thinking of the night she’d spent there three months ago, the night they made what she still couldn’t help but think might have been a colossal  blunder.

It was a Friday night and Madge had been out with some colleagues from work for a late happy hour.  She’d only had one martini, but she’d skipped lunch and the ridiculously tiny plate of hummus and pita bread her table was sharing hadn’t done much to fill her stomach.  She was squeezing her way through the crowd back from the restroom when someone grabbed her elbow.  “Fancy seeing you here,” Gale had murmured into her ear.  “C’mere, there’s some people I want you to meet.”  And before she knew it, he was tugging her over to a high top table of  _his_  coworkers. 

They were mostly what you would expect from a group of engineers—tweedy, nerdy men who stumbled over their words as Gale introduced her, with one exception: a petite woman with red hair and sharp eyes.  Eyes that were currently narrowed in Madge’s direction, the “hi” she threw Madge’s way terse and perfunctory.  Madge thought back to the leggy brunette from their first night together; apparently, Gale was constantly surrounded by women that made Madge feel bad about herself.  She’d felt short and dumpy compared to the brunette at the club, and this itty-bitty thing made Madge feel like an elephant.  A chubby blonde elephant with frizzy hair and absolutely no natural grace.  Suddenly, Madge felt a surge of possessiveness.  She wanted to prove to the miniature ice-princess that Gale had chosen _her_ , putting aside for a moment the fact that he hadn’t really done anything of the sort.  Madge waved off Gale’s offer of his chair, so as he sat perched on the chair, his legs higher than her waist, she lightly rested her hand on his knee.  Gale turned his head to look at her, but she kept her eyes on the rest of the table, asking the man across the table (Darius?  She thought his name might be Darius) about their latest project.  As Darius droned on about project deadlines and problems with the calculations, she started dragging her hand up Gale’s thigh.  She could feel him staring at her—along with Itsy Bitsy Bitch, who clearly knew what was happening–but Madge was pretending to focus on Darius, a smirk crossing her lips.  When her hand reached the apex of his thigh she dug her nails in, just enough to make his leg jerk and kick the table.

Gale recovered quickly.  “Hey, Madge—weren’t we supposed to meet Katniss and Peeta soon?”

They had no such plans but at this point she could read between his lines pretty easily.  “Oh shit, you’re right, we did say we’d meet them.  But it’s all the way across town, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he confirmed.  “So we should probably get going.   _Now._ ” 

Madge nodded, heading back to her table to drop off a few bills to cover her drink and then outside to where Gale had a cab waiting.  As the cab drove off, Gale leaned in to kiss her but she stopped him.  “Have you—have you ever dated her?”

It took Gale a minute to figure out who she meant.  He laughed.  “Christ, no. I’m not going to date a coworker, especially not one as mean as her.  Wait, were you  _jealous_?”

Madge shrugged, a little embarrassed at her display of possessiveness.  They weren’t together—they’d agreed on that long ago—and it had never really bothered her before.  Granted, she’d never really directly thought about Gale finding someone else, either.  It was allowed, of course, but suddenly the idea of him being with someone else made her stomach lurch.

Gale was kissing her neck then, a smile in his voice.  “Aw, it’s okay to be a little jealous, princess.  I think I might have to tell Darius you’re spoken for, you know.  He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Oh really?” she flirted, feeling a little better.  “I’m spoken for?”

“Right now you are,” he growled, kissing her hard.

Back in his apartment, she stood before his bed as Gale untied her wrap dress, opening it slowly, like he was savoring the moment.  “Christ, you’re hot, you know that?” he muttered, trailing his hand down between the valley of her breasts and over to the curve of her hips.  She blushed then, feeling exposed to his gaze, and tucked her chin down.  “Now now, none of that,” he admonished, bending to kiss her again.  She let her wrap dress fall and unhooked her bra, eager to feel his now-bare chest against hers.  Gale swooped her into his arms and laid her on the bed, shucking his pants and boxer briefs as she tugged her own panties down.  He’d just covered her with his body, kissing her deeply, when she remembered.

“Wait, Gale, stop.  I forgot—I’m not on the pill right now.”

He leaned back, his fingers already inching inside of her, moving in and out in achingly perfect strokes.  “But you can’t…right?”

“Right.  No chance.”  Thinking was getting harder and harder with each stroke of his fingers—she needed him inside her, and  _soon_.

“Okay, well, I don’t think I have any condoms, so if you’re okay with risking it, I’m okay with it.”

“Yes, yes, please,” she begged, drawing his face down for another kiss.

“Good,” he growled, removing his fingers and entering her slowly.  “Because I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you across the bar tonight.”  His hips set a leisurely pace, drawing out and pushing back in inch by inch.  It was driving her to distraction so she wrapped her legs more firmly around his waist, digging her heels into his backside and refusing to let him pull out too far.  He’d chuckled then, dropping his head to her ear and whispering “My my, princess is  _impatient_  tonight,” before speeding up and sliding his thumb to her clit, wringing her release from her moments after he’d let go.

And here they were, three months later.  Pregnant.  Madge rolled over, looking at Gale sleeping peacefully beside her.  If they’d known then that she  _could_  get pregnant, would they have gone through with it?  She wanted to say no, that they would have been smart, or at the very least one of them would have run out for condoms, but remembering the all-consuming  _need_  she’d felt for him that night—and the way he’d seemed to feel it too—Madge had a sneaking suspicion they would have wound up here anyway.

 

Brunch went exactly how she expected—Rory and Vick were boisterous, shouting and pounding Gale on the back, and Posy squealed and gave Madge a hug.  It was overwhelming, but nice.  As they left, Rory promised he would make sure Prim didn’t tell Katniss before they had a chance.  She’d forgotten that Gale’s brother was dating Katniss’ sister, but appreciated the gesture.  Part of her was very happy that her baby was going to have so many aunts and uncles.  She hadn’t grown up with any extended family at all and she’d always felt a little lonely as a result.  All in all, she was secretly glad that if she had to have an accidental pregnancy, it was one that would result in being a part of a family like this, however tangentially.

Katniss and Peeta reacted similarly—Peeta was overjoyed, and Katniss rolled her eyes and punched Gale in the arm.  “Figures,” was her only response, but Madge knew she was happy for them.  A little surprised, but as Delly had said, Gale and Madge’s sort-of-relationship was not exactly a secret in their small group of friends.  After telling Katniss and Peeta, Madge felt like she could finally relax.  She would still have to deal with work, but she would cross that bridge when she had to.  For now, things were good.


	3. Chapter 3

_Twenty-four Weeks_

“Madge, seriously.  Get down from there.  I’ve got this.”

Madge ignored him and continued to stand on her tiptoes on the chair, pulling down books from the top of her bookshelf.  She’d decided it was time to clear out the office to start prepping the nursery.  She was handling her massive bookshelves while Gale disassembled her Ikea desk, hence why she was on a chair and he was peeking out from under the desk.

 

“Undersee, I mean it.  At least just leave the top shelves for me, okay?”

“First you won’t let me take apart the desk and now you don’t want me to unload the bookcase.  Is there anything you will let me do?”

“Honestly?  No.  Go sit down.  I can’t have my girls hurting themselves.”

_His girls_.  Ever since the ultrasound last week confirming the sex, Gale had started referring to them that way.  It made her stomach swoop and her heart clench in a way she wasn’t totally comfortable with.  She rolled her eyes at him.  “Fine.  I’ll go get us some water.” 

The water procured, she returned and sat cross legged on the floor near him.  Gale was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.  Madge shifted so she was leaning on her elbows, her feet stretched out in front of her, parallel to him.  She giggled and knocked her foot into his calf.  “Think our daughter is going to be as tall as your family?”

He smiled.  “I’d say there’s a good chance, yes.  And if she’s anything like Posy, she’ll be one hell of a volleyball player.  And basketball.  And hurdler, come to think of it.”

Madge turned her head to grin at him, but instead he leaned up and kissed her.  Surprised, she started to pull back, but his hand slid along her jaw and into her hair, keeping her in place.  His tongue brushed hers, and suddenly she was leaning closer and closer to him, pushing him down to the floor.  She moved one leg over his hips, kneeling above him and bending down, her lips never leaving his.  In one smooth motion he pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it behind him.  There was a tiny voice telling her that this was a bad idea, that this would complicate things, but the longer he kissed her the quieter it got. 

Madge reached down and pulled his shirt up.  Gale leaned up slightly, just enough for her to work it over his shoulders.  He released her bra and her breasts swayed down, her nipples just skimming his chest.  Their lips had yet to leave each others longer than necessary to discard their shirts, but then Gale tugged her up his body, giving him access to her collarbone and burying his face in the crook of her neck.  She hissed as his hands cupped her breasts—they were tender, and he seemed to understand, holding them gently and then gliding his hands around her back.

Madge moved back and stood up on her knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans.  Gale’s hand crept up her thigh, bunching her long, loose skirt in one hand.  He nudged her panties aside, easing two fingers inside of her and finding her wet and ready.  Impatient, she pushed his jeans and boxers down, drawing him into her hand and sinking down onto him.

God, she’d missed this.  Feeling him inside her, feeling his hips push up as she pushed down.  She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed it, needed  _him,_  until just now.  Gale pinned his hand between them, stroking her clit faster and faster until she let out a long, keening moan above him.  Her fluttering walls pulled him with her not long after.

Gale laid back and trailed a finger down her cheek, smiling.  She climbed off him, regret rolling over her in waves.   _Way to go, Madge.  Friends and nothing more, huh?  Where exactly does “fucking him on the floor without even taking off your clothes” fit in?_   She found her shirt and pulled it back on.  Her bra was under the desk and getting it would mean reaching over Gale, so she just let it be.  She turned away from him, unable to bear the grin spreading across his face.

Gale sat up, dragging his pants back up over his hips.  He reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder.  “Hey, what’s going on?  Are you all right?”

She shook her head, tears now pouring down her face.  “This was a bad idea, Gale.  We—we shouldn’t have.  I think you should go.”

“What?  Why?”

She whirled around.  “Because.  Because not thinking is what got us into this fucking mess.  Not thinking and then fucking.  And now I’ve ruined both our lives, and I don’t want to make things worse.”

“Worse?  How is  _this_  worse?  How is us, being together,  _worse_  than you being pregnant on your own? How are our lives  _ruined_  now?”

“Because we  _aren’t_  together, Gale.  We’ve never  _been_  together.  We weren’t even really friends.  We just had some friends in common, and got along, and then we started screwing, and now we’re  _here_  and it’s all just so fucked up.”  She couldn’t stop crying, and she couldn’t stop the words spilling out either.  “And you being here, helping me with things, acting like we’re a  _fucking couple_  when we’re not, it’s not making things any less fucking complicated. ”

“What do you want from me?” he snapped, pulling his shirt over his head.  “When you told me you were pregnant, I told you I was in this.  And being in this meant helping you.  And yeah, we agree to keep things platonic, but what we just did?  That was good.   _We’re_ good.  And you know it. So why are you pushing me like this?”

“BECAUSE,” she shouted.  “Because we weren’t together, but at least now we’re friends.  And if we get together now, how do we know it’s going to last?  We don’t, okay?  We fucking don’t.  But this baby is going to be in our lives no matter what, and I don’t think I could handle it if we tried this and it failed, okay?  So we can’t do this again, Gale.  We can’t.   _I_ can’t.  I need you to go.  I—I can’t right now.”

Gale stared at her for a moment and picked his toolbox up off the floor.  “Fine.  I’ll see you at Delly’s thing next weekend.”  And then he was gone.

Madge curled into a ball on the floor, unable to stop the tears.  It was all so much.  She couldn’t afford to fall for him, only for him to leave her for someone else in a few years.  If they were going to raise a child together and remain on good terms, they couldn’t be anything more than friends.  Anything else was just too risky.

On Wednesday, she had to tell HR she was expecting—she couldn’t camouflage the bump by pretending she was just stress eating any longer, and rumors were already circulating.  As she suspected, they didn’t  _say_  they were unhappy, but they implied it.  Heavily.  So she agreed to only take the minimum of six weeks, because the last thing she needed was to get laid off for some bullshit excuse that actually meant “took too long to come back to work after having the baby.”  She braced herself and texted Gale to let him know.  They hadn’t spoken since their blow up on Sunday. 

It took longer than usual for him to respond.  Finally, her phone pinged.  “ _Sounds good.  I’ll work something out with my office later this week.”_   That was it.  No hello, no warm joke, not even a see you later.  She deserved it, she supposed, but it still hurt.  Even though it was what she wanted.  Right?

***

 

Delly had offered to throw a baby shower for them, but since none of their friends had ever had a baby before they were a little at a loss for where to start.  So rather than the traditional brunch-games-presents, Delly decided to just have a cocktail party for all of their friends.  Of course, it wasn’t just going to be friends—Gale’s whole family was coming, and Madge’s father as well.  This would be the first meeting of the grandparents, and that on top of the current strain between Madge and Gale had Madge on edge.

She arrived an hour early to help Delly set up, despite Delly’s protestations.  Delly had a big, spacious loft in a bohemian part of town, and in addition to being nice it was probably the only apartment in their entire group of friends that could fit everyone comfortably.  After Madge refused to just “sit down and relax” three different times, Delly gave up and assigned her to set up the plates of cheese and crackers.  Peeta and Katniss showed up shortly thereafter with boxes of baked goods.  Peeta pulled Madge into a hug, but judging from the glances Peeta and Katniss kept throwing one another, Gale had told Katniss about their fight. 

Gale arrived with his entire family in tow—Hazelle, Rory, Prim, Vick, and Posy—all at once.  They burst through the door with a flurry of gifts and laughter.  Madge breathed a tiny sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to talk to Gale alone, or at least not yet.  He came over behind the counter where she was arranging the plates and gave her shoulders a squeeze.  She turned her head and shot him a tight smile, which he returned with a nod.   _Okay_ , she told herself, _this is a good start.  We can work with this._

As the party swept into full swing, things thawed between them.  They had to sit next to each other to open the presents after all, and it was amazing how ooh-ing and ahh-ing over things like a mobile (bought by Posy with money she made working at a movie theater) and a hand knit blanket (Delly’s handiwork) brought them together.  Hazelle and Roger got along just fine, thankfully, although Madge privately thought that Hazelle could have a future in politics based on the way she helped draw Roger out of his disapproving shell and into the embrace of the party.

Before she knew it, the party was over and Gale’s car was packed with the gifts.  “Did you still want a ride home?” he asked, balancing the last box (receiving blankets, courtesy of Rory and Prim) in the backseat.  In response, Madge slid into the passenger seat.

It took several trips up to her apartment to completely unpack Gale’s car, and they spent most of the time repeatedly marveling at how much  _stuff_  a baby needed.  Then they were standing in the nursery, awkwardly surveying everything (and carefully avoiding looking at the spot near the desk where they’d been just a week before) when Gale looked at her.  “I have something for you, actually.  Do you wanna…” he jerked his head toward the living room, clearly desperate for a change of venue.

Madge sat on her couch, suddenly nervous as Gale sank down next to her and pulled a small box from his pocket.  He placed it gently in her lap, but instead of opening it she just stared at it, like it might explode or bite her.  “It’s not an engagement ring, I promise,” Gale assured her with a tiny smile. “I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone, in case it made things awkward.  I bought I a few weeks ago, so if you don’t want it, if this is breaking the rules, I can return it, okay?

It wasn’t an engagement ring.  It was a pair of earrings.  Tiny, delicately made earrings in the shape of strawberries.  Madge looked at him, speechless.  He looked slightly uneasy, as if he’d done something wrong.  “They’re strawberries, you know, since we talked about calling the baby “Berry’” until we had a name, and I thought about buying you a Barry White album, but that seemed like a dick move.  And it’s really, really hard to find strawberry-themed jewelry that isn’t for a little kid, so I’m sorry if they aren’t what you’d normally wear, but—“ he broke off and scrubbed a hand across his face.

She’d been watching him ramble, watching him  _worry_  that his gift wouldn’t be good enough, and her heart felt like it was going to burst.  So she leaned over and kissed him softly on his cheek.  Gale froze at the first brush of her lips, and without even thinking of the consequences, she tilted her head to press a kiss to his lips as well.

But before the kiss became anything more than a peck, Gale stood.  “ _Dammit,_  Madge!” he exploded, “no, you do not get to do this.  You do  _not_  get to decide what we are, not all by yourself, and you  _don’t_ get to change your mind every damn day.  If you want us to be friends, then we have to be  _friends_  and you can’t fucking kiss me whenever you fucking feel like it.” He was pacing the living room, flexing his hands into fists.  “I get why you were upset last weekend, I do, but, fuck, what am I supposed to do?  Last week you practically tore my clothes off, and then you cried and threw me out.  So fine, I gave you some space.  But now, what, you want us to be friends, but if you feel like it, you get to kiss me?  Do I get a say in this  _at all?_ ”  Madge just looked at him, dumbfounded.  “You know what?  Have it however you fucking want.  I’m out.”  And he grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him.

***

“I’m sorry, you  _what?_ ”  They were at happy hour, and Delly was  _pissed_.  “Margaret Josephine Undersee, what the  _fuck_  is your problem?”

More than anything,  Madge wished she could be drinking right now.  She’d known Delly would not be pleased with her, but she didn’t think Delly would react  _this_  strongly to finding out that Madge had kissed (and fucked) Gale.

“Let me get this straight.  First, you two have no-strings-attached sex, which results in a pretty damn permanent string, so, you know, great job there.  Then, he agrees to basically whatever conditions you put down, and steps up pretty admirably, and starts like, renovating your place and shit—“

“He was taking apart a desk, Delly, he wasn’t building me a new kitchen,” Madge interrupted indignantly.

“Do I look like I’m finished? No.   _Anyway_ , he’s  _disassembling a desk_  which for once with you two isn’t a fucking euphemism, but then you fuck him anyway.  Correct?”  
  At Madge’s nod, she barreled on.  “Right, so then, after you’re done screwing him, you flip out and say that you can’t do it anymore and you just have to be friends.  And  _then_  he buys you an adorable fucking gift, so you kiss him?”

Madge hid her face in her arms on the table.  “I know, I’m terrible,” she moaned.

“Well, not terrible.  But not great.”  Delly reached over and patted Madge’s head.  “Let’s just take this one problem at a time.  You still want him involved in the baby’s life, right?”  Madge nodded as best she could with her head still flat on the table.    “Okay, and when you guys aren’t fighting about if you’re together or not, you’re a good team, right?”

“Right,” she mumbled.

“Right.  And the sex is…?”

Madge raised her head slightly.  “How many synonyms for ‘fantastic’ do you know?”

“Shit.  Okay, well… I think you’ve got your answer there.”

“Dell, I’m not following.”

“Madge.  Honey.  Darling.  Chica.  Please don’t make me smack you.  You’re a good team, you want him around for the next few decades  _at least_ , and the sex is good.”

“Great.  The sex is great.”

“Fine, great.  So what I’m saying is…I think you’re going to have to marry the sonofabitch.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I mean, you don’t have to marry him  _now_ , obviously, but Madge, please.  What are you so scared of?”

“That we’ll make it work for awhile, and then things will fall apart and we’ll be stuck sharing custody and hate each other.  Delly, be serious.”

“I am being serious.  You’re the one being a goddamn idiot.  What are you so worried about?  There’s literally no guarantee that you’ll work out in the long run with  _anyone_.”

“So what do I do now?

“I’d start with talking to him, chica.  Talk.  Just talk.  No sex.  You two are going to have to figure this one out together  _without_  rubbing your genitals together.”

Madge groaned in response, but Delly just reached across the table to steal a mozzarella stick, which Madge promptly smacked out of her hand.  “Delly.  Honestly.  You know better than to steal a pregnant lady’s mozzarella sticks.”

***

It was two weeks later, and Madge still hadn’t talked to Gale.  Well, they’d texted briefly, but just short updates on the baby, mostly.  Madge had been able to feel her moving for awhile, but the kicks were starting to get harder now.  But Madge couldn’t bring herself to have the conversation she knew they needed to have, and Gale didn’t seem too inclined to patch things up, either. 

She heard the knock when she was sitting on the couch, talking to her stomach.  She wasn’t sure when she’d started doing that, but she was doing it a lot lately.  She hefted herself up and opened the door to find Hazelle with a bassinet beside her.  “Hi honey, sorry I’m late.  Where do you want this?”   _Wait, what?  Late_?  At Madge’s blank look Hazelle shook her head.  “Didn’t Gale tell you I was bringing this over today?  I swear, I don’t know where that boy’s brain is lately; you’d think he was the one that’s pregnant.  Here, you just hold the door; I can manage this on my own.”

Madge stood aside and held the door, directing Hazelle into the nursery.  “Thank you, Hazelle, really.  It’s perfect.”  She didn’t know what else to say, though, so she just fell silent. 

Hazelle gave her a searching look.  “I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but do you have any tea?  I could use a cup, and I’m betting you could too.”

Madge nodded and headed for the kitchen with Hazelle trailing behind her and set some water to boiling.  Seated at the table, Madge wrapped her hands around the steaming mug and focused on it, not sure she wanted to look Hazelle in the eye.  Hazelle’s eyes were brown, not grey, but there was something about their directness that reminded her of Gale.

Hazelle broke the silence first.  “I’m guessing you two had a fight.”  It was a statement, not a question, and Hazelle took Madge’s silence for confirmation.  “I can’t say I’m surprised—pregnancy is hard, and an unexpected one, well, it puts you in a tough spot. You’ve got a baby to plan for, and this whole other person is suddenly a part of your life for good.  And Gale is a good man, but, well, he’s got a lot of his father in him.”  Madge looked up then.  She still didn’t know much about Gale’s dad.  “Henry was a good man, but he had a temper—no, nothing like that,” she added in response to Madge’s unconscious eyebrow raise.  “But he could hold a grudge like nobody’s business.  And Gale’s like him in that way.  A little angry, and a lot self-righteous.  I don’t know what you two are fighting about, but if I know my son, he’s not likely to make the first move to end a fight.  I could try and make him, but I don’t think that’s going to fix whatever it is that went wrong between you two.  And I don’t know if you need to apologize, or he does, or you both do, but I do know that one of you is going to have to be brave enough to start.”  Hazelle reached over and rested her hand on Madge’s.  “You’re a good girl, Madge.  We’re lucky to have you as a part of our family, and my granddaughter is lucky to have you as a mother.  And no matter how things work out with Gale, that’s going to stay the same, all right?”  Madge smiled, even though tears were welling up in her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Hazelle stood and held her arms out for a hug, which Madge reciprocated.  “You’re welcome, honey.  Is there anything else I can do for you?”  Madge shook her head no, and Hazelle headed for the door, giving Madge one last hug before departing.  Madge took a deep breath and texted Gale.

_I think we need to talk._

She waited, and seconds later she got a response.

_Yeah, you’re right.  Come on over.  I have something here for you anyway._


	4. Chapter 4

_Twenty-Seven Weeks_

Madge stood at the door in front of Gale’s place, trying to gin up the courage to knock, but the door opened anyway.  “Hi,” she started shyly.

 

“Hey.”  He stood aside to let her in.  There was no venom in his voice, but there wasn’t any warmth either.

Madge slid onto a stool at his kitchen counter and took a deep breath, steeling herself, but he spoke first.  “Here.”  He pushed a manila folder across the counter.  “These are for you.  I know you said you’d have a friend draw them up, but I just went ahead and did it.  You can take your time looking through them, but it’s all exactly as we discussed.”

Custody papers.  That was what he had for her.  She felt her earlier resolve to apologize melt away.  If he was going to treat her like a stranger, then fine.  “Right.  Great.  Thanks.  I’ll just be going then.”  She snatched her purse and headed for the door, fury building inside of her.  Gale didn’t move from his position behind the counter, even as she flung open his door to flounce out.  Just as she was about to slam his door, she changed her mind and spun around, letting the door swing shut behind her.  “You know what?  No.  This isn’t okay.  This isn’t  _fucking_ okay, and you know it.”  She slapped the papers back down on the counter.  “We’re going to fucking  _talk_  about this.”

“Then let’s talk.”  Gale crossed his arms over his chest, clearly waiting for her to begin.

“Fine.  I’ll start.  I’m sorry, okay?  I’m fucking sorry.  I’m sorry that I’m a goddamn hormonal mess, and I’m sorry I can’t make up my fucking mind.”

Gale’s only response was to narrow his eyes, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

“God, what else do you want me to apologize for?  I’m sorry I freaked out at you that day in the nursery, and I’m sorry I kissed you after the party.  I’m sorry I got pregnant and put us in this whole fucking mess.  I’m sorry, okay?  I’m. fucking. sorry.”

“And?”

“And  _what_ , Gale? Don’t you dare stand there like you’re Mother-fucking-Theresa with nothing to apologize for.”

Gale stared at her, suddenly fighting a smile.  “Did you really just call me Mother-fucking-Theresa?  Christ, Undersee, I hope our daughter doesn’t get your mouth.”  In spite of herself, she felt a grin spread across her face and started chuckling.  Pretty soon they were both laughing so hard their ribs hurt.

Eventually, Gale calmed down enough to speak.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry too.  I shouldn’t have thrown those papers at you.  And I shouldn’t have blown up at you, or stormed out.”  He walked around the counter and took the seat next to her, clasping her hands in his.  “I have absolutely no idea how to do this.  Or what we’re doing.”

The warmth of his hands around hers sent a flutter through her belly.  No, wait, that wasn’t a flutter, that was a kick.  A hard one.  Madge took Gale’s hand and pressed it to her belly.  He hadn’t felt her move yet, and sure enough, another kick soon followed.  Gale raised his eyes to her in amazement.  “That’s…that’s her?  Oh my god, Madge, that’s…that’s really our baby?”

_Our baby_.  That was what she wanted.  She swallowed hard.  “Yeah, that’s her.  Gale, what I came here to say—originally—was, well, I’m sorry, and Gale, I want us to make this work.”

“I do too.”

“No, I mean…us.  Together.  You were right before.  We’re good together.  There’s no reason not to try.”

Gale looked at her for a long moment.  “All right.  Grab your purse.”

“What?”

“If we’re going to go on a date, we don’t have much time before there’s another little person demanding all of our attention.  Just about three months, I reckon.”  And with a sly grin, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the door.

 

_Thirty-One Weeks_

Madge giggled as Gale tripped over her shoes and swore loudly.  “Shh, you’ll wake the baby,” she admonished in a stage whisper.  She laughed at her own joke and his exasperated face.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

Madge nodded and rose on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.  “I do. And I bet you think so too.”

“Possibly.  But I also think you’re a little on the messy side, Undersee.”

Madge looked around her apartment, which was admittedly rather cluttered these days.  She hadn’t been home much in the past few weeks, preferring to spend time at Gale’s place.  Aside from the aforementioned shoes, there were magazines on her counter, table, and coffee table, and a pile of laundry on the floor between her bedroom and the nursery.  It had been cleaner, that’s for sure.  She shrugged.  “I’m just trying to get used to the mess a baby will bring, that’s all.”

“Oh, is that so?”  He pulled her closer and leaned down, brushing his lips against hers.

Madge had meant to talk to him after their dinner date—they still had to pick a name—but the way he kissed her made that seem like a distant worry.  Suddenly ravenous for him she fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him as close as she could with her belly in the way.  Her tongue slid against his as his hands cupped her face.  She pulled him to her bedroom and grabbed the hem of her dress, whipping it over her head.  Madge meant to roll down her thigh high stockings next, but Gale reached out a hand and stopped her.  He motioned for her to sit down on the edge of the bed and tugged his own shirt off before kneeling in front of her.

She had started feeling more self-conscious about her body over the past month; her breasts were absolutely out of control, and her already generous curves had started spreading in a way she didn’t really like.  But the way he looked at her just then, his eyes shining in the dim light, well, none of it seemed to matter.  Gale’s fingers curved under the top of her left stocking, his knuckles brushing the inside of her thigh, and then he very gently peeled the stocking off, pressing a kiss first to her thigh, then to her knee, then to her calf, and finally dropping a delicate peck on top of her foot.  Madge curled her fingers into his hair, needing to anchor herself to him, as he rolled off her other stocking as well.  He urged her panties off next, nuzzling her thighs, and Madge knew what he intended, but she didn’t want to wait anymore.  So she stood, pulling him with her, and unbuckled his pants. She shoved them down along with his boxer briefs and then climbed back onto the bed on all fours, throwing a challenging look at him over her shoulder.  He understood and positioned himself behind her, his knees between hers.  Gale slid first one finger, then another inside her, testing, making sure she was ready, and then he was inside her, moving the fingers that were now coated in her arousal up to her clit.  He stroked her as he moved, his other hand caressing her spine, skimming up and down her back, over the clasp of her bra that was the only piece of clothing left between the two of them.  Sooner than she thought possible, she found herself crying out as she clenched around him and his thrusts sped up as he came, rocking his hips as he emptied into her.

He collapsed on the bed next to her, a shit-eating grin on his face.  “What is it now, Hawthorne?” she teased.

“Nothing, princess.  I just like having sex with you, that’s all.”  He dropped a tiny kiss on her nose, laughing as she scrunched her face in response.  “I was thinking,” he said after a moment, one hand tucked behind his head, “I should probably start leaving some clothes here.  Would that be all right?  I’d only need one drawer.”

“Mmm.  Sure,” she mumbled, settling herself on her side and under his arm.  Having him there, next to her, felt more right than she ever thought possible.

 

_Thirty-Four Weeks_

“Felicia.”

“Nope.  Ex-girlfriend.”

“Sarah.”

“Boring, and I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked at least two.”

“Pamela.”

“You planning for our daughter to be head of the PTA by the time she’s five?”

“Anne.”

“Her?  What, is she funny or something?”

“Megan.”

“Girl from high school.  That I might have slept with a few times.”

Madge screamed in frustration and threw the baby book at Gale, which of course he caught, because he was  _infuriating_  tonight.  “I swear to god, Gale, just how many women  _have_ you slept with?”

He grinned, enjoying her anger.  “To be honest, a lot.  It’s going to be very difficult to find a name.” At her second screech of anger, he rolled his eyes.  “Madge, I’m kidding.  I mean, not about those names, but we’ll find one, I promise.”

But Madge wasn’t so sure.  The baby was going to be here in less than two months and while they’d settled on a last name (Hawthorne; Madge decided she’d had her fill of “I can see Undersee’s underpants” in grade school) they were no closer to finding a first name.  She’d taken to randomly paging through the baby name book and yelling out names in the vain hope he’d like  _one_  of them.  So far, however, no luck.

Gale moved from the recliner to the couch, pulling her close to his chest.  “Careful,” she warned, “I might crush you.”

“I’ll take that chance.  Besides, you aren’t  _that_  big you know.”

“You’re just saying that so I’ll fuck you later.”

“Possibly.”  She could feel him chuckle as he kissed the top of her head.  “Is it working?”

“No.”  Madge felt large and ungainly lately.  And gassy.  And she had more acne than she’d ever had as a teenager.  She was not feeling attractive, in other words, despite Gale’s protestations.  The past seven weeks had been good between them—they’d found their footing again, this time unhampered by their previous rules.  The nursery was finally ready, but they kept spending more and more time at Gale’s apartment.  Madge reasoned that once the baby was here, he wouldn’t be spending much time at home, so she owed it to him to give him some time there.  Also, his place was nicer.  “But really, we need to pick a name.  Your turn.”

Gale sighed and started flipping through the book.

“Christine.”

“Bitchy girl from high school.”

“Ashley.”

“Bitchy girl from middle school.”

“Danielle.”

“Bitchy girl from middle school’s sister.”

“Did you like anyone you went to school with?”

“No.”

Gale laughed and kept paging through.  “May.”

Madge sat up.  “Did you just say May?”

“Yeah, why?  You like it?”

“My mom’s twin sister was named May.  Well, Maysilee, but I didn’t really like that as a full name.  But May…I could like May.”

“May.  May Hawthorne,” he said slowly, testing it out.  “I like it.  What would we do for a middle name?”

“May Hazelle?  No, that sounds like Mayzlle.  What were your grandmothers’ names?”

“Gladys and Valentina.”

“Valentina, really?”

“Yeah,” Gale laughed, “I guess my great-grandmother was a big Rudy Valentino fan.”

“Well, Gladys is out, but I could live with Valentina.  May Valentina Hawthorne.”  Madge smiled.  “I like it.”

“MVH.  Good initials, doesn’t spell anything.  Teasing possibilities?”

“I can’t think of anything too outrageous.  Whaddya think, Hawthorne?”

Gale kissed her nose.  “I think we should sleep on it, but I would say we’ve got ourselves a name, princess.”

 

_Forty-One Weeks_

Everything was ready.  The nursery was complete, the name was chosen, and Madge and Gale had worked out their respective leaves from work—Madge would take six weeks, and Gale would take three as soon as May was born, then three more once Madge went back to work.  Hazelle would take over once they ran out of leave.  Madge had a bag packed with essentials for the hospital, and Gale had unofficially moved into her place, planning to stay for at least the first three months.  After that, May would live with Madge and Gale would stay over when he wanted to see her, which Madge assumed would be almost every night anyway.  Madge had seen her doctor just a few days earlier and everything was checking out—May was in position and Madge was perfectly healthy for someone forty-one weeks pregnant.  In short, everything was in place, except for May.  Who steadfastly refused. to. come. out.

Madge was at work, trying to finish off the last few cases on her desk and ignoring the increasing pressure on her bladder and occasional Braxton-Hicks contraction.  She was peeing every 5 minutes, it seemed, but she was determined to finish at least one full set of paperwork before her next bathroom break.  Suddenly, she felt a slow leak between her legs.  “Oh goddammit,” she muttered and grabbed her phone.  Gale answered on the first ring.  “It’s not the baby,” she said before he could ask.  “But do you think you could swing by my place during lunch?  I think I just peed myself.”

Gale snorted.  “You  _what?”_

“Shut the fuck up.  This is half your fault anyway.  Can you run home or not?”

“Yeah, I can,” he said, stifling some giggles.  “What all do you need?”

Madge tried to answer, but just then another Braxton-Hicks stole her breath away.

“Madge?  Madge, are you there?”  Gale sounded worried.

“I’m fine,” she managed to get out.  “Just another Braxton-Hicks.” 

Now it was Gale’s turn to be quiet.  After a beat, he spoke.  “Um, Madge?  Do you think you might be in labor?”

“What?  No.  I told you, it’s Braxton-Hicks contractions, and I…oh my god.  Fuck.  Gale, you’re right.”

“Wait, really?  Shit.  Okay, um…are you all right at work?  Can you wait for me to get there?”

“I’m reasonably sure I’m not going to give birth in the next ten minutes, so yeah, I think I’ll be okay,” she said drily, hiding her panic behind sarcasm.

“Har har.  Fine.  You stay put and I’ll go to your place and grab the bag and then I’ll be right by, all right?”

“Okay.   And Gale?” she paused for a moment.  “Thank you.  I mean it.  Thanks.”

“Of course, babe.  I’ll see you soon.”  Gale hung up and Madge called HR to let them know she’d be leaving.  She didn’t want to make a big scene so she hid in  her office until Gale called and let her know he was outside.  She waddled as quickly as she could from the elevator to his car, where she found him pale and grey-faced. 

“You all right there?”

Gale gave a shaky laugh.  “Honestly?  No.  I’m not all right.  But right now I’ve gotta drive you to the hospital, so let’s not talk about it.”

He drove slowly—far more slowly than normal, since he usually drove like he was a part-time Nascar driver—and Madge wanted to scream  _hurry the fuck up, Hawthorne_ , but she didn’t think that would help either of their nerves.  So instead she bit back her tirade and moans as the contractions got more painful.

Five hours later, Madge had no such compunctions about sparing his feelings.  She felt like she was being wrung out, squeezed in an iron vice, and it was  _all.his. fault._   Gale was trying, she’d give him that, but no matter how hard she squeezed his hand it couldn’t make up for the incredible agony inside of her.  So she started yelling at him.  First, it was just regular cursing, “Fuck you, Hawthorne,” that sort of thing.  As he’d noted before, she did have quite the mouth, so she put it to good use, getting increasingly creative as the contractions got worse.  He bore it all with good humor, patiently telling her to hang on, that it was almost over, and smoothing her hair back when she got a moment to breathe.  She’d just called him an “arrogant fuck-faced good for nothing motherfucker” when he burst out laughing.

“Undersee, I swear, I have never heard another human being swear as much as you do.  And I went to engineering school and have two brothers.”  He smiled at her scowl, pressing a kiss to her very sweaty forehead.  “It’s a good thing I love you, you know that?”

“YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME FOR THE FIRST TIME WHEN I’M IN FUCKING LABOR?  WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” she bellowed, another contraction seizing her before she had a chance to add a few more choice descriptors.

Gale valiantly tried to hide his smile.  “It seemed as good a time as any, princess.”

It took another two hours—two awful, unspeakably painful hours, filled with lots and lots of cursing on Madge’s part—before they heard a piercing cry.  The doctor handed her up to Madge, who tugged down her gown so May could lay on her skin.  Madge surveyed her daughter.  Apparently, she hadn’t given birth to a baby so much as a noodle.  A long, skinny, alien noodle with a very pointy head.  But then May opened her dark blue eyes—so dark they were almost black—and Madge fell in love.  The dark thatch of hair on May’s head was all Gale, as were the long, thin limbs.  “She’s got your nose,” Gale whispered, leaning close.  Madge tore her eyes away from May to look at Gale, his eyes shining with the beginnings of tears.

“I love you too, you know,” she whispered, feeling a little bit bad about her earlier outburst.

“I know,” he murmured back, pressing yet another kiss to her temple.  The room was still abuzz with activity, but neither of them could see anything that wasn’t their daughter.

 

_Four Months Old_

May was screaming.  Again.  Some more.  She was  _always_  screaming, it felt like, no matter what either of them did.  Both Madge and Gale were back at work full time, and it was absolutely brutal.  May barely slept, and then only if Gale was holding her—not Madge, to Madge’s infinite dismay and occasional relief, but Gale and Gale alone.  He was holding May now, gently rocking her and trying to get her to take a bottle, but May was having none of it.  It was 6pm at night, and that meant it was screaming time and would be for another hour and a half unless she passed out first.

Madge sat at the kitchen table, sorting through a giant stack of mail, trying—and failing–to tune out her daughter’s wails.  “I bet your neighbors hate us,” he called over the sound of May’s screeches.  Madge nodded absently and then stood up, a piece of paper in her hand.

“Shit.  Fuck.  Shit.  Apparently, they do.”

“What?”  Gale sounded concerned and transferred May to rest against his shoulder as he walked across the room.

“My asshole landlord is raising the rent.  $200 a month.  Fuck.   _Fuck_.  This place just went from pricey to too fucking expensive.”  She sank back into the chair, her head in her hands.  She couldn’t deal with it—she hadn’t slept properly in months, and now she and her daughter were about to  be homeless.

Gale sat next to her, patting May on the back as her cries quieted slightly.  “Why don’t you just move in with me?” he asked.  “We’re already living together here, but my place is a lot bigger, and I swear I won’t raise your rent.”  He flashed her a grin then, a grin she knew all too well.

“Oh yeah?” she teased back playfully.  “How much would the rent be?”

“I’m not sure yet.  But I’m sure we can work out an…arrangement,” he said as he kissed her softly.  “Whaddya say, princess?”

“I’m in,” she whispered back.

 

 

_Three Years Old_

Madge stood at the curb with her carry-on, peering down the road, hoping for a glimpse of Gale’s car.  She’d only been gone for three days, but it felt like three weeks.  At least now it was Friday night, and she had nothing ahead of her but the weekend—the paperwork she needed to finish thanks to this trip could wait until Monday.

Finally, she saw Gale’s car round the curve and pull up in front of her.  He popped out, jogging over to grab her bag and give her a quick kiss.  “Somebody’s in the back waiting on her mama,” he called as he opened the trunk.  Madge ducked her head inside the car to give May a kiss, pleasantly surprised to find her with damp hair and her purple polka dotted pajama onesie already on. 

“Mama!” May screeched happily.  “Daddy let me watch  _three_  Doras because I’m  _three!”_

_Oh boy_.  Madge pulled her head out of the car.  “Three?  Really Gale?  Now she’s going to want three every time.”

Gale made a face.  “I was hoping she wouldn’t sell me out.  Sorry, things got kinda crazy while you were gone.  I’ll deal with it, I promise.  But I  _did_  handle bath time, if you’ll notice, so all we have to do is put her to bed.”  He pulled Madge into a hug, burying his face in her hair.  “I missed you,” he murmured in her ear.

“I missed you too.  Both of you.”  Madge slid into the passenger seat as Gale started the car and left the airport. 

“By the way, Ma said she’d take that one for a S-L-E-E-P-O-V-E-R tomorrow if that’s all right with you,” Gale said, tipping his head back toward May.

“That sounds  _great_ ,” Madge replied as she sank back into the seat, thoroughly exhausted.

May was singing softly to herself in the backseat and Madge strained to hear the words.  When she did, Madge burst out laughing.  “Gale, please tell me there’s a good reason for our three year old daughter to be singing ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’.”

Gale smiled at her.  “Of  _course_  there’s a good reason–I needed someone to harmonize with.”  He glanced in the review mirror.  “Hey May, do we want to show Mama our new song?”  May squealed with delight and Gale fiddled with the stereo.  To Madge’s surprise, what came out of the speakers was not the dulcet tones of Kansas but…

“Oh holy shit.  You did not.”

Gale smiled wider.  “I most certainly did.”  And then Gale and May sang “Heat of the Moment”—complete with slightly off-beat clapping on May’s part—the rest of the drive home.

 

Gale and Madge lay on either side of May in her brand new ‘big girl bed,’ trading off reading from the three books she’d chosen for bedtime.  Apparently, three was May’s new favorite number.  Madge was already in her pajamas, the same old t-shirt and shorts Gale had set aside for her back when they were barely more than friends.  May finally fell asleep, her face—so like her father’s, no matter how much he protested that May’s nose and smile were Madge’s—smoothed out.  Gale kissed May’s forehead and swept some of her long dark hair back before climbing out of the bed.  He grabbed Madge’s hand and tugged her out of the room, sweeping an arm under her knees and carrying her to their bedroom.  “I had high hopes for us tonight, princess, but I think you need to go to bed.”

Madge nuzzled her face into his chest.  “I think you’re right, Hawthorne.  I missed you, but damn I’m tired.”  He chuckled and set her down gently on the bed, covering her with the blankets.

The next morning, Madge awoke to an empty bed and the sound of pans moving and a small child giggling in the kitchen.  Generally, those noises meant pancakes.   _Excellent_.  She padded into the kitchen and sure enough, Gale was standing over the stove with May balanced on one hip, directing him in the proper placement of chocolate chips in each pancake.  “Morning, you two,” she called as she poured herself a cup of coffee and wandered over to the stove.  Gale crouched a bit, his eyes still on the pancakes, so she could kiss both of their cheeks.  Madge held her arms out for May who reached for her in turn.  She carried May over to her chair, letting her long legs dangle—she definitely had Gale’s height–and set her down.

“Mama?” May asked.

“Yes, Maisie-Daisy?” she replied absently.

“When you and Daddy get married, can I be the flower girl?”  Over at the stove, Gale dropped the spatula with a loud  _clang_.

Madge should have seen that question coming—ever since May had been flower girl in Katniss and Peeta’s wedding, she’d been obsessed with weddings and asking people if she could be in theirs, up to and including total strangers.  Gale saved her by loudly announcing that the pancakes were ready, which was enough of a distraction for May.  Madge dished out the pancakes while Gale whispered something to May that made her light up.  He sat down next to Madge and nodded to May.  “Mama, would you marry Daddy?”

Madge snapped her head toward Gale, who was no longer sitting next to her but down on one knee, a tiny ring box in his hand.  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Madge muttered, disbelieving. 

Gale threw his head back and laughed.  “Really?  That’s your answer?” he asked as May watched expectantly.

“Oh god, no.  I mean, no, that’s not my answer, but yes.  Yes, of course I’ll marry you, yes!”  Madge’s brain finally caught up with her mouth and she leaned down to capture his lips in a long kiss.  May cheered wildly, banging her spoon up and down, not totally sure what was happening but certain it was exciting.

Later that afternoon, Hazelle found the three of them sprawled on the floor, playing dinosaurs with May.  Well, actually, it was dinosaur  _babies_  and the rules were very confusing and changed constantly, so mostly May was getting frustrated with her parents’ ignorance while they goofed around.  “Knock knock,” Hazelle called as she poked her head in through the door.  May ran into her grandmother’s arms as Madge and Gale picked themselves up.  “I see everything went according to plan,” Hazelle said with a nod towards Madge’s hand.

“I should have known you were in on this,” Madge laughed, giving Hazelle a hug (and squashing May a bit in the process.)  Hazelle grabbed May’s things, and after a round of kisses they were out the door, leaving Madge and Gale alone.

Gale wrapped his arms around her back and rested his chin on the top of her hair.  “You’d better get going if you’re going to shower before our dinner reservations,” he murmured, making no move to let go.

Madge craned her head back to look at him.  “Dinner reservations, huh?  You were awfully sure of yourself, weren’t you?”

He flashed her the grin that had been her undoing so many times before.  “I was pretty sure.  I mean, you did have my baby, and everything.”

Madge smacked him gently in the stomach, laughing as she walked away.  But as they moved around the bedroom, quietly getting dressed for their date, she couldn’t help but feel that everything was finally as it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Gale is quoting Arrested Development. I couldn't resist.
> 
> And this entire story owes a huge debt of gratitude to bleedtoloveher.


	5. outtake I

Madge was fat.  Or at least, that’s how she felt.  Fat, and unhappy, and desperate to be not-pregnant anymore.  She was forty weeks along and utterly miserable as she stood at the sink, loading dishes into Gale’s stainless steel dishwasher.  Gale stepped behind her and rested his hands on her hips—or where her hips  _would_  be, if she wasn’t so fucking pregnant—and kissed the nape of her neck.

She jerked away. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”  She could hear the surprise in his voice and she might have felt guilty if she wasn’t so damn angry.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

He stepped back, his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.  Madge grasped the edge of the sink, willing her tears away.  “Hey,” he soothed.  “It’s okay.”  She turned and buried her face in his chest.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—I hate how I look right now,” she sniffled.  If Gale was baffled by her sudden change of emotions, he didn’t let on.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  “It’s okay, princess.  I think you’re pretty enough for the both of us.”


	6. outtake II (Halloween)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for coming up with May's costume goes to bleedtoloveher.

Madge rose up on her tiptoes to help Gale put the finishing touches on his costume and tied his eye mask tightly.  “Can you still see?”

Gale whirled around in an overly-dashing manner.  “My name is Inigo Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die,” he announced with a ridiculous accent and an enormous grin that Madge failed to return quite as enthusiastically.

“For the last fucking time, you are not Inigo Montoya.  You’re Westley-slash- the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

“They aren’t the same person?”

Madge rolled her eyes.  “Obviously not.”

“Yeah, well, I only saw the movie for the first time a week ago and  _someone’s_  daughter had kept me up all night the night before.”

Madge rolled her eyes again and rose up on her tiptoes to drop a peck on his lips.  “Your daughter too, you know,” she responded playfully.  “Now let’s get her in her costume and go downstairs.  Your mom’s friends are waiting.”  Going to the Hawthorne family Halloween party had sounded a little daunting at first to Madge, but Gale convinced her that it really wasn’t as overwhelming as it sounded—mostly just his mother’s neighbors and his sister’s friends, and everyone was guaranteed to fight over holding May while they would have a chance to talk to some other adults for a change.

Gale knelt down to zip May into the costume Hazelle had painstakingly sewn, which took a bit of wrangling since May had recently discovered crawling and fought any attempts to quell her newfound independence.  Gale managed to distract her with silly faces, which never failed to warm Mage’s heart.  “Tell me again why our daughter’s first Halloween costume is a rat?” he asked.

“She’s not a  _rat,_  she’s a Rodent Of Unusual Size.  Trust me, it’ll be a big hit.”

Gale hefted May into his arms and straightened.  “You look very pretty, you know.”

Madge grinned.  “I know.  Now let’s go downstairs.”

Gale kissed the top of her head and opened his old bedroom door.  “As you wish,” he said with a wink and ushered his tiny family down the stairs.


End file.
